(38) He continued, "Hidden inside this body of mine Is a precious pearl, ten drachms in weight. That jewel of right, belonged to you, You have lost it, as it, was not fated you should get it, That pearl whose like can nowhere be found." Thereupon the man, like a woman in her travail, The bird said to him, "Did I not counsel you, saying, 'Beware of grieving over what is past and gone?' When 'tis past and gone, why sorrow for it?

(98) I ask of you no recompense for my prophesying; I am a guide; God buyeth my guidance for you, True, a guide deserves his wages; But what are my wages? The vision of The Friend. Abu Bakr indeed offered me forty thousand pieces of gold, How could I take brass beads for pearls of Aden?" I will tell you a tale; hearken attentively, Can eyes of hearts clouded with greed see clearly? The illusion of rank and riches blinds his sight,

(49) Where will you find one more liberal than God? He buys the worthless rubbish which is your wealth, He accepts these frozen and lifeless bodies of yours, He takes a few drops of your tears, He takes your sighs fraught with grief and sadness, In return for the sigh-wind that raised tear-clouds, God gave Abraham the title of "Father of the faithful." Come! in this incomparable and crowded mart Sell your old goods and take a kingdom in payment!

The Prince of Bokhara had a Vakil who, through fear of punishment for an offence he had committed, ran away and remained concealed in Kuhistan and the desert for the space of ten years. At the end of that time, being unable to endure absence from his lord and his home any longer, he determined to return to Bokhara and throw himself at his lord's feet, and endure whatever punishment his lord might be pleased to inflict upon him. His friends did all they could to dissuade him, assuring him that the Prince's wrath was still hot against him, and that if he appeared at Bokhara he would be put to death, or at least imprisoned for the rest of his life. He replied, "O advisers, be silent, for the force of the love which is drawing me to Bokhara is stronger than the force of prudent counsels. When love pulls one way all the wisdom of Abu Hanifa and Ash-Shafi'i is impotent to withstand it. If it shall please my lord to slay me, I will yield up my life without reluctance, for this life of estrangement from him which I am now leading is the same as death, and release from it will be eternal happiness. I will return to Bokhara and throw myself at my lord's feet, and say to him, 'Deal with me as thou wilt, for I can no longer bear absence from thee, and life or death at thy hands is all the same to me!'" Accordingly, he journeyed back to Bokhara, counting the very toils and discomforts of the road sweet and delightful, because they were steps in his homeward course. When he reached Bokhara his friends and relations all warned him not to show himself, as the Prince was still mindful of his offence and bent on punishing him; but he replied to them as to his other advisers, that he was utterly regardless of his life, and was resolved to commit himself to his lord's good pleasure. He then went to the court and threw himself at his lord's feet and swooned away. The Prince, seeing the strong affection borne to him by his repentant servant, conceived a similar affection towards him, and descended from his throne and graciously raised him from the ground, and pardoned his offence. Thus it is that eternal life is gained by utter abandonment of one's own life. When God appears to His ardent lover the lover is absorbed in Him, and not so much as a hair of the lover remains. True lovers are as shadows, and when the sun shines in glory the shadows vanish away. He is a true lover of God to whom God says, "I am thine, and thou art mine!" In the course of this story, which is narrated at great length, are introduced anecdotes of a lover and his mistress, of the Virgin Mary being visited by the "Blessed Spirit" or Angel Gabriel, of the fatal mosque, of Galen's devotion to carnal learning, of Satan's treachery to the men of Mecca at the battle of Bedr, and of Solomon and the gnat. There also occur comments on various texts, and a curious comparison of the trials and wholesome afflictions of the righteous to the boiling of potherbs in a saucepan by the cook. The reply of the lover when asked by his mistress which city of all those he had seen was most pleasing in his sight.

A certain man had a Hindu slave, whom he had brought up along with his children, one of whom was a daughter. When the time came for giving the girl in marriage many suitors presented themselves, and offered large marriage portions to gain her alliance. At last her father selected one who was by no means the richest or noblest of the number, but pious and well-mannered. The women of the family would have preferred one of the richer youths, but the father insisted on having his own way, and the marriage was settled according to his wishes. As soon as the Hindu slave heard of this he fell sick, and the mistress of the family discovered that he was in love with her daughter, and aspired to the honor of marrying her. She was much discomposed at this unfortunate accident, and consulted her husband as to what was best to be done. He said, "Keep the affair quiet, and I will cure the slave of his presumption, in such a way that, according to the proverb, 'The Shaikh shall not be burnt, yet the meat shall be well roasted.'" He directed his wife to flatter the slave with the hope that his wish would be granted, and the girl given to him in marriage. He then celebrated a mock marriage between the slave and the girl, but at night substituted for the girl a boy dressed in female attire, with the result that the bridegroom passed the night in quarrelling with his supposed bride. Next morning he had an interview with the girl and her mother, and said he would have no more to do with her, as, though her appearance was very seductive at a distance, closer acquaintance with her had altogether destroyed the charm. Just so the pleasures of the world seem sweet till they are tried, and then they are found to be very bitter and repulsive. The Prophet has declared that "Patience is the key of joy;" in other words, that he who controls and restrains himself from grasping at worldly pleasures will find true happiness; but this precept makes no lasting impression on the bulk of mankind. When bitter experience overtakes them, as the pain of burning afflicts children, or moths sporting with fire, or the pain of amputation a thief, they curse the delusive temptations which brought this pain upon them; but no sooner is the pain abated than they run after the same pleasures as eagerly as ever. This is divinely ordained, that "God may bring to naught the craft of the infidels." Their hearts have, as it were, been kindled on the tinder-box of bitter experience, but God has put out the sparks of good resolution, and caused them to forget their experience and vows of abstinence according to the text, "Often as they kindle a beacon-fire for war doth God quench it." This is illustrated by an anecdote of a man who heard a footstep in his house at night, and at once struck a light; but the thief put it out without being observed, and the man remained under the impression that it had gone out of itself. This leads the poet again to dwell on his favorite theme of the sole agency of Allah. Then, to supply the necessary corrective of this doctrine, another anecdote is told concerning Mahmud and Ayaz. The courtiers grumbled because Ayaz received the stipend of thirty courtiers, and Mahmud by a practical test convinced them that the talents of Ayaz equalled those of thirty men. The courtiers replied that this was due to God's grace, not to any merit on the part of Ayaz; and the king confuted them by pointing out that man's responsibility and merit, or demerit, for his actions are recognized in the Koran. Iblis was condemned for saying to God, "Thou hast caused me to err," and Adam was commended or saying, "We have blackened ourselves." And elsewhere it is said, "Whosoever shall have wrought an atom's weight of good shall behold it; and whoso shall have wrought an atom's weight of evil shall behold it."

(54) Are better than exile from God and neglect of Him; For the former pass away, but the latter abide; He is happy who carries a wary heart before God." Each of our members testifies to God's bounties towards us. Inquire now, I pray, of each one of your members; Inquire the detail of the bounties of the All-sustainer, Day and night you are eagerly asking for news, Since each member of your body issued from Not-being, How much pleasure has it seen, and how much pain? For no member grows and flourishes without pleasure,

(12) That night, as ho lay asleep, he heard a voice from heaven, "Thou hast bought the water of life and healing; The worth of what thou hast chosen and possessed Equals that of all the people's accepted prayers." Wisdom the believer's lost camel. My people adopt my law without obeying it, The Koran's wisdom is like the "believer's lost camel,' You have lost your camel and seek it diligently; Yet how will you find it if you know not your own? What was lost? Was it a female camel that you lost? It escaped from your hand, and you are in a maze.

(21) Through grief my days are as labor and sorrow, My days move on, hand in hand with anguish. Yet,, though my days vanish thus, 'tis no matter, Do thou abide, O Incomparable Pure One! But all who are not fishes are soon tired of water; And they who lack daily bread find the day very long; So the "Raw" comprehend not the state of the "Ripe;" Arise, O son! burst thy bonds and be free! How long wilt thou be captive to silver and gold? Though thou pour the ocean into thy pitcher,

(11) I did not do what they told me for my good; Now house and treasure are lost and my hand is empty." You have taken your house on lease or hired it; 'Tis not your own property to buy and sell. As to the term of the lease, it is till your death; If before the end of the term of the lease You omit to derive profit from the house, Then the owner puts you out of it, While you are now smiting your head in deep regret, And now tearing your beard to think of your folly,

(42) How shall I not be in the number of those bewitched by Him? How shall I be other than night without His day? Without the vision of His face that illumes the day? His bitters are very sweets to my soul, I am enamoured of my own grief and pain, I use the dust of my grief as salve for my eyes, That my eyes, like seas, may teem with pearls. The tears which are shed because of His chastening Are very pearls, though men deem them mere tears. 'Tis "The Soul of souls" of whom I am making complaint;

(21) Have a care lest one day they prevail over you! He in whose breast the leaf of true faith is grown Thou makest a mock of Iblis and the Devil, Because thou art a fine man in thy own sight; But when thy soul shall tell thy wretched faults, What lamentation thou wilt cause to the faithful! The sellers of base gold sit smiling in their shops, O Veiler of sins! strip not the veil from us; Lend us aid on the day of trial!

(21) O careless straggler, bind a rope upon thy feet, Lest thou lose even thine own self! But thy ingratitude and unthankfulness That road was perforce closed to thee Quick! clasp them and ask pardon of them; Like the clouds, shed tears of lamentation, So that their rose-garden may bloom for thee, Press around that door, be not viler than a dog, If thou wouldest rival the Seven Sleepers' dog. God's claims to our gratitude.

(41) Saying, "What ye sow will yield only thorns; If ye fly that way, ye will fly astray. Take seed of us to yield you a good harvest, Now ye know not the truth and nature of the 'Truth,' But at the last ye will cry, 'That was the "Truth."' The Truth is yourself, but not your mere bodily self, Your real self is higher than 'you' and 'me.' This visible 'you' which you fancy to be yourself Is limited in place, the real 'you' is not limited. Why, O pearl, linger you trembling in your shell?

(16) "Shame upon thee, O soul, for thy overweening love of the world! If thou dost not believe in heaven or hell, at any rate thou believest in death, which will snatch from thee all worldly delights and cause thee to feel the pangs of separation from them, which will be intenser just in proportion as thou hast attached thyself to them. Why art thou mad after the world? If the whole of it, from East to West, were thine and worshipped thee, yet it would all, in a brief space, turn to dust along with thyself, and oblivion would blot out thy name, as those of ancient kings before thee. But now, seeing thou hast only a very small fragment of the world, and that a defiled one, wilt thou be so mad as to barter eternal joy for it, a precious jewel for a broken cup of earthenware, and make thyself the laughingstock of all around them?"

(10) Take, for instance, the case of a man who has sold a slave girl without knowing how much he was attached to her till she is quite out of his reach. Then the love of her, hitherto dormant, wakes up in him with such intensity as to amount to torture, stinging him like a snake, so that he would fain, cast himself into fire or water to escape it. Such is the effect of love of the world, which those who have it often suspect not till the world is taken from them, and then the torment of vain longing is such that they would gladly exchange it for any number of mere external snakes and scorpions.

An Arab lived with his wife in the desert in extreme poverty, so that they became a reproach to their neighbours. The wife at last lost patience, and began to abuse her husband, and to urge him to improve their condition. The Arab rebuked her for her covetousness, reminding her that the Prophet had said, "Poverty is my glory," and showing her how poverty was a better preparation for death than riches, and finally threatening to divorce her if she persisted in her querulous ways. The wife, however, by blandishments reduced her husband to obedience, as wives always do, and made him promise to carry out her wishes. She directed him to go and represent their case to the Khalifa at Bagdad, and to make him an offering of a pot of water, that being the only present they could afford to make. Accordingly the Arab travelled to Bagdad, and laid his offering at the feet of the Khalifa, who received it graciously, and in return filled the pot with pieces of gold, and then sent him back to his home in a boat up the river Tigris. The Arab was lost in wonder at the benignity of the Khalifa, who had recompensed him so bountifully for his petty offering of a drop of water. The story contains several digressions, on Pharaoh, on the prophet Salih, and on Adam and the angels, and the poet, apropos of its disconnectedness, compares it to eternity, as it has no beginning and no end.

Mahmud, the celebrated king of Ghazni, had a favorite named Ayaz, who was greatly envied by the other courtiers. One day they came to the king and informed him that Ayaz was in the habit of retiring to a secret chamber, and locking himself in, and that they suspected he had there concealed coin stolen from the treasury, or else wine and forbidden drink. The fact was, that Ayaz had placed in that chamber his old shoes and the ragged dress which he used to wear before the king had promoted him to honor, and used to retire there every day and wear them for a time, in order to remind himself of his lowly origin, and to prevent himself from being puffed up with pride. This he did in accordance with the text, "Let man reflect out of what he was created." The intoxication of the present life puffs up many with false pride, even as Iblis, who refused to worship Adam, saying, "Who is Adam, that he should be lord over me?" This he said because he was one of the Jinn, who are all created of fire. Adam, on the other hand, confessed his own vileness, saying, "Thou hast formed me out of clay." The king was well assured of the fidelity of Ayaz; but in order to confute those who suspected him, he ordered them to go by night and break open that chamber and bring away all the treasure and other things hidden in it. It is a characteristic of evildoers to think evil of the saints, because they judge of their conduct by the light of their own evil natures, as the crooked foot makes a crooked footprint, and as the spider sees things distorted through the web he has spun himself The hug's conduct in this did not betoken any diminution of his love for Ayaz, because lover and beloved are always as ono soul, though they may be opposed to outward view. Accordingly the courtiers proceeded to the chamber of Ayaz at night, and broke open the door, and searched the floor and the walls, but found only the old shoes and the ragged dress. They then returned to the king discomfited and shamefaced, even as the wicked who have slandered the saints will be on the day of judgment, according to the text, "On the resurrection day thou shalt see those who have lied of God with their faces black." Then they besought the king to pardon their offence, but he refused, saying that their offence had been committed against Ayaz, and that he would leave it to Ayaz to decide whether they should be punished or pardoned. If Ayaz showed mercy it would be well; and if he punished it would be well also, for "the law of retaliation is the security for life." Only he enjoined him to pronounce his sentence without delay, because "Waiting is punishment."